


Violet and Emerald

by orphan_account



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Depression, F/F, Self Harm, Suicide Attempt and thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-06 20:04:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14655185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Suffering from crippling loneliness, an inability to socialize with the people around her, and a burning desire to inflict horrible wounds onto herself, Yuri's life begins to crash down around her. After a disastrously close brush with death, she's admitted to an inpatient facility, where she'll be forced to confront her chaotic problems and learn to move forward. Her roommate, a popular, cheerful girl with no visible problems on the surface reaches out a hand to help, and soon a strong bond sparks between them. As the two find comfort in each other, they begin to face the world together.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of multiple sessions of writer's block. It started off as something I just mindlessly wrote, and steadily grew into its own thing, and I've decided to actually turn it into a series rather than leave it to sit around. It won't be high on my priority list and I'll probably just add a few hundred words every so often when a fit of writer's block comes around, unless people really like this. So, if anyone's really interested in it, please let me know and I'll try and give it some more dedicated time out of my schedule. 
> 
> Also, I totally never thought about this ship before writing this, but after exploring it a little, I kind of feel like it works surprisingly well.

It was fitting for there to be a storm raging as Yuri was led into the inpatient facility. 

A colorful, flowery sign hung above the door, broadcasting the name of the place to the world. It was, of course, named after some doctor Yuri had never heard of, nor would she likely ever see, and promised substantial care and top quality programs. All Yuri knew about the building was that the hospital had recommended it, and that her parents had forced her into it. There hadn’t been a choice in the matter. Two days of thorough examination from doctors, therapists, and psychologists had dictated her to be a danger to herself, and that she couldn’t be comfortably released back into the world without stringent care. She had no idea how long such care would take. 

The hallways in the hospital had been painted bleak shades of white and grey. The halls of the inpatient center were colored with bright green and blue hues, decorated with murals of flowers and dense fields, and lined with pictures of far distant, towering cities. All the staff they passed were dressed in similarly bright colors and flashed bright smiles. The air smelled of roses and freshly cut grass on a summer afternoon. Yet Yuri knew it was all fake. It’d been designed with the idea of cheering up the patients, to keep them blindly thinking that everything would be fine, that their troubles would finally be lifted, but she saw right through it all. She saw the cracks in the smiles, the chips in the painting. No matter how they tried to hide the less unsavory aspects of the building, she saw those too; bars over plexiglass windows, the doors that all needed a swiped card to get through, the omnipresent security staff stalking the halls. It was a prison. Not as harsh as a real prison with actual cages for the inmates to be thrown in and armed wardens carrying sticks and guns, but it was a gilded prison all the same. Now that she was here, she wasn’t getting out until the doctors let her. 

The past few weeks were a complete blur. She was a well-behaved student, of little cause for concern. She was top of her class, praised by her teachers, and her parents loved her dearly. She’d had a memorable, safe childhood, one where she’d been able to freely express herself and grow. Everything should’ve been perfect. Yet it couldn’t be. She was helpless in a social setting. She spent so much time  wording her thoughts on paper in poetry and varied stories, but she had no clue how to verbalize her feelings, how to share them with the people around her, and it forced her into isolation. Her only friends were the knives stuffed deep under a dozen rags at the very back of her closet. A collection no one knew existed. Through them, she was able to express her feelings. Through them, she wasn’t alone. They’d communicate through narrow, bloodied marks neatly arranged on her arms, a method she’d grown to love and cherish throughout the years, the only method of communication she knew. It was a language. Every mark told its own story, through shape and depth, and each scar was a memory of a battle long past, or a grand time spent with her family or class. 

Her parents worried about her at the start of her senior year. She’d been even more isolated than usual. Seniors were do hard to talk too. There were a dozen different cliques and clubs at her school, all of them representing a spectrum of different personalities, appealing to just about anyone alive, but Yuri found no comfort or familiarity in them. Even the literature club that shared her deep desire to read and examine books left her feeling unfulfilled. So she stuck with her books and blades, content with her ways. Her books allowed her to escape life and visit impossible places, meet a hundred vivid characters, and fight a hundred world-ending wars and monsters. Yet her parents weren’t content. They wanted her to join a club, to take up after school activities, to make new, real friends, but why would she? She didn’t need people to be happy. Not anymore.

It was inevitable her parents would pry. Thus, it was inevitable they would find her secrets. It was explosive, a culmination of years of boxed feelings buried and forgotten, of things that needed to be said but hadn’t. They’d found her one morning before school, as she carelessly left the door unlocked and her mom wanted to rush her. From that point forward, things spiraled down a mountain. They ripped her closet apart, confiscated her collection, and gutted the house of every sharp item, from the kitchen knives to plastic forks. Drawers were locked. Cabinets were emptied. She was left truly alone for the first time. From there, she steadily lost her mind, isolated from everything she once loved and needed, until she couldn’t take it anymore. 

Her knuckles still hurt from breaking the drawer open. The bruises would fade, in time, and no trace of them would be left. As for the slices all across her body, from the normal site on her arms all down beyond her stomach and to her legs, they’d be scars, the last memories etched onto flesh. The last trace of a dead language. It was all punctuated with the deep, harsh gouge at her midsection, something she didn’t remember. Her parents said it was self-inflicted, but that was lost in an ocean of darkness, locked away from her. 

Weeks were spent in recovery, all blurry and distant, like an improperly tuned TV. Her wounds had scabbed and scarred, and her bruises had begun to fade. The gouge no longer needed stitches and didn’t burn with every little movement. To that end, the hospital had begun examination, and decided she wasn’t ready to be discharged yet. Instead, she was tossed into this hole. 

The person she’d spoken with had promised her a beginning to curing her. Yuri didn’t know what needed to be cured. She had a support system, once, and it had been stripped away. If it hadn’t, she wouldn’t need to be there. She’d spend weeks inside this cage, monitored all day and night with no sense of privacy, forced to interact with people she didn’t care to know or understand, and she knew it would only make things worse. She didn’t  _ need _ their help, yet they wanted to force it onto her anyway. 

The check in was a grueling, invasive process. After filling out a stack of forms, she was made to give up her clothes and put on a bland, slightly oversized shirt and slacks. She wasn’t allowed any personal effects, not yet at least. Her phone, books, blankets, everything had to be left behind. A young girl dressed in hospital scrubs listed off medications that the hospital had prescribed, little pills she’d been taking for a few days that only further clouded her head. The voices around her droned on just the same as the clock ticking on the wall and the rain hitting the grass outside. She just wanted to go home. 

At some point, she’d said goodbye to her parents. Tearful hugs were exchanged, and they were escorted out of the facility, alongside everything she’d hoped to bring with her. She was alone again, lost in a sea of faces she didn’t recognize. The nurse took her arm and led her into a backroom where a male doctor looked over her. He listed off her medical history, confirmed some things, and asked a few dozen questions, all the while his pen scribbled on a fat notebook. After that, she was assigned living quarters. 

The nurse escorted her down a long hallway lined with many doors. Most were closed. It was past curfew, and people were expected to sleep. The storm continued to rage, thunder rocking the foundation of the building as the nurse stopped in front of a door at the end of the hall. Yuri looked back and saw a few curious faces poking out from behind cracked doors, no doubt observing her to try and discern what was wrong. Everyone there had a reason to be. Depression, suicidal thoughts, anxiety, even addiction; the facility covered it all, promising cures and help. Maybe they needed it, but Yuri didn’t. 

The nurse unlocked the door with a swipe of her keycard. The card readers were mounted to the walls next to every door, shining with a bright red light when locked that shifted to green when unlocked. As none of the doors had windows, Yuri had no idea what to expect once the nurse pulled the door open. She expected something as bleak as a prison cell without the rusted bars. 

“They told you that you have a roommate, right?” the nurse’s voice chimed. Yuri’s mind had been elsewhere as she spoke, but the words stuck out to her.  _ Roommate?  _ As she thought about it, there’d been multiple heads to a room poking out to see her, two or three each.  _ Of course.  _ Not enough space to give everyone an individual room. 

“I don’t know,” Yuri replied. “I have one?”

The nurse flashed a reassuring smile. “She’s nice. I think you’ll like her.” With that, the door was slowly pulled open, and Yuri was directed to step inside.

The walls were as grey as a hospital room. There weren’t any pictures hanging from them, but there was a flowery mural painted around the window on the back wall. Thick bars covered the window, just like the rest of the facility, but the glass wasn’t blurred, and Yuri could see a flooded field beyond, masked by the heavy rain. Two beds were separated, one on either wall, each with its own wooden nightstand mounted with a lamp and equipped with a few drawers. 

The most striking thing was the girl on one of the beds. 

She was sat up, no doubt recently woken up if her lidded eyes were any indication. Her ginger hair was a mess of frizz and rebellious strands, reaching all the way down her back and sprawling out onto the pillows behind her. She was dressed in the same slacks as Yuri, but she had a light jacket on, sporting the name of a sports team Yuri didn’t recognize. Her eyes were a deep emerald green, like two gemstones fixated in her irises. She blinked up at Yuri, as though her mind had to register that there was someone before her, and she smiled in realization. 

“Monika,” the nurse said, “Sorry for waking you.”

“It’s no trouble,” the girl,  _ Monika,  _ said. Everything about her was familiar in some way. Her name, her eyes, all of it stuck out like a sore thumb, and Yuri tried to hunt through her mind for the reason.

“I hope you don’t mind, but you’re getting a new roommate,” the nurse said. “This is Yuri.”

“Hi!” Monika climbed off the bed and stretched a tad, then held out a hand. Yuri’s mind took a stupid moment to understand what it meant. After a second too long, Yuri shook the girl’s hand. 

“Hi,” Yuri sheepishly said. 

“You’re from Silver Oak, right?” Monika smiled even wider. “We go to the same school! I’ve seen you in the halls a few times.”

_ Oh.  _ Suddenly it was flooding back to Yuri, waves of images of the girl in front of her. A popular student, constantly surrounded by a gaggle of friends, active in sports, known by the administration. What was a girl like that doing in a place like this?

“I t-think I remember you too,” Yuri stuttered. She really didn’t want a roommate either way. That only made this already insufferable process even worse. Living in the same room left little chance to avoid conversation or interaction, so she’d be forced to put up with this person until one of them was released. If Monika were released first, no doubt the facility would find another person to bunk with Yuri. 

She’d just have to fake it all. Fake recovery, fake feeling better. She’d throw on a convincing face in the mornings, show signs of progress, and soon they’d deem her ok to be released, and she could be done with this hole. She didn’t need it. Her parents would be tighter and more restricting, but she could find ways, keep her outlets a secret. 

“Well, I guess that’s all,” the nurse said. She handed Yuri a folder filled with leafs of paper detailing her schedule, meds, enrolled programs, and other information she didn’t really care about. Her day began fairly early. She’d only be able to fit in six hours of sleep at most given the current hour. 

“I’ll leave the two of you to your sleep. Yuri, if you have any questions, I’m sure Monika here can help out. Otherwise, I’ll see you tomorrow.” The nurse cheerfully smiled and waved as she exited the room, gently closing the door behind her. Yuri could hear the click of the lock. Now she truly was trapped, penned in, just like a prison. 

Monika was back in bed already, thin covers tossed over her. She was awake, though. Yuri climbed into the other bed. The mattress was soft, far easier on her back than the hospital bed had been, and the blankets were at least thick and warm. The storm was raging outside even still. The rain pattered against the plexiglass window, and the thunder rumbled the entire building. A clock was mounted to the far wall in front of Yuri’s bed, secured in its own case of hard plexiglass, and read that it was past midnight. 

Monika stirred on the other side of the room. Yuri felt her gaze. Up until the confines of the hospital, she couldn’t recall a time where someone else had slept in the same room as she. The nurses had watched her every move in the hospital room, and there was always someone awake in the room with her, observing even as she slept. Monika wasn’t a nurse. She didn’t watch out of caution and didn’t try to make note of every detail, she watched out of curiosity, because Yuri was a new face, one that needed to be noted. Of course, there was no doubt that she was trying to find out what was wrong with Yuri as well. Yuri would’ve been lying if she said she wasn’t curious about the other girl too. 

_ How does a popular, athletic, star-studded student like Monika end up in a hellhole like this? _

Yuri may not have known all that much about social settings, but she knew it would be rude to just plainly ask. It was the reason Monika hadn’t asked yet. People would pry, would ask leading questions, and try to discern that  _ why,  _ but it was impolite to just ask. 

“Strange, isn’t it?” Monika asked. Her voice startled Yuri. She’d been growing so used to the soft pinging of the rain against the wall and glass that she’d begun to drift off. Now she was awake again, fully aware, all trace of exhaustion replaced by a sudden surge of adrenaline. 

“Yeah,” Yuri replied. It wouldn’t be for the reason Monika thought, though. Yuri was here pointlessly. If she’d never had her coping methods taken from her, she’d never have ended up in that hospital. There really was no need for any of this to happen. 

“You get used to the place,” Monika said. “It took me a few days, but they make your schedule easy. Just take your meds and attend the classes and stuff.” 

“How long do people usually stay here?” Yuri asked. 

“Depends on the person,” Monika replied. “Some people are only here for a few days, others can be here for weeks. I’ve been here for a week and a few days, but I’ve seen people go after just one or two days.” 

Yuri hugged her knees to her chest. “I really shouldn’t be here.”

Monika chuckled. “That’s what everyone says.” 

“But I really shouldn’t be here. There’s nothing-”

“ _ Nothing wrong with you?” _ Monika finished. “There’s something wrong with everyone here, that’s why we’re here. Maybe you don’t know it yet. But you’ll see.”

Yuri’s nails dug into her skin. She needed to  _ leave.  _ There wasn’t anyway out, though. The door was locked tight, made of an impressively thick wood, and the windows wouldn’t give way to even a bullet. Even if she did escape, where would she go? Her parents would’ve just thrown her back in. She’d be alone again, and lost. 

_ Just take your meds and attend the classes.  _ Monika was right. So long as she faked it through the process, she’d make it to the end, and she could go back to her old life and forget this disaster ever happened. 

“Just get some sleep, Yuri. You’ll see in the morning.” Monika turned over in her bed. Free of Monika’s gaze, Yuri closed her eyes and listened to the gentle downfall of rain outside, no longer laced with roaring thunder and flashing lightning. 

Just for the briefest of moments, at the very edge of sleep, Yuri wondered if maybe she did need this. Everyone who looked at her concluded she was ill, sick with something, and needed help. All of the doctors had deemed her a danger to herself. Perhaps there was more to her life than what she had before. Perhaps this place could help, and she could move on to being someone different, a new Yuri that didn’t need the knives or their language, but someone who could make friends and have a real future away from the chaos of old. Perhaps this  _ was  _ necessary.

She had no time to consider it for the night, though. Soon, sleep kicked in, and she was left to the mercy of her dreams. 


	2. Two

Yuri woke to the harsh glint of sunlight pouring in from outside. The storm had passed, leaving flooded earth behind, and the sharp winds had torn branches from trees and strewn them across the yards. Now, the sky was bare of even a single cloud, and birds sang in the morning air.

For Yuri, however, the storm was still stirring. 

Groggy, Yuri pulled herself from her bed at the nurse’s orders, and shuffled into the bathroom. At least here she was allowed to shower in privacy. She enjoyed the isolation until the hot water had turned frigid and the nurse was urging her out, and she obeyed and lazily threw on her drab slacks and grey shirt again. 

She had never much cared about her appearance in the past. There had never been anyone to impress. Most days she just threw on something with sleeves to cover her arms, and spent a few minutes taming her raven hair with a brush, then shoved aside her bangs with a pin. Her real friends deep in her closet didn’t care how she looked, after all. Yet now, she gazed at her sleepy reflection in the mirror with a hint of distaste. Her eyes were surrounded by deep dark circles, and the whites were sharply bloodshot. Her damp hair was already popping up all around. The stress and depression had left so many marks and wrinkles that she looked quite a few years older, not like the high school senior she really was. Compared to her still slumbering roommate, she looked like a true wreck. 

Monika, if Yuri was remembering her name correctly, was stirring when she stepped out of the bathroom. The ginger girl shot her a bright smile, but Yuri only responded with a cold frown. It was better the two of them just ignore each other. Even if Yuri had even the slightest desire to talk to anyone, her lacking social skills would’ve no doubt turned Monika away. 

Her day began with a trip to the doctor. He droned on about specific meds and their side effects, but Yuri focused her attention on the ticking clock mounted on the wall. It didn’t matter what she said here. She didn’t need the meds they were forcing onto her, but she really had no choice but to swallow them. They checked to make certain she took them, too. Five small capsules in all, each a different color, all tasting of plastic. She nearly gagged as she forced them down with the water. Satisfied, the doctor dismissed her back out into the young nurse’s care, who dragged her across the halls and to the cafeteria for breakfast. 

The wide cafeteria was rather silent. Most of the other patients were still rubbing the sleep from their eyes as they mercilessly downed cups of coffee and picked at bland food, and no one gave Yuri a passing glance as she mumbled something random from the menu and slipped into a table shoved idly into the corner of the room. From here, she had a view of the garden outside, where the summer weather had bloomed flowers of all different shades. It was almost enough to lift her spirits.  _ Almost.  _ She saw a security guard, though, standing off to the side, chatting with a gardener. He was dressed casually, like the doctors and other faculty, but there was something blocky and dark hanging from his belt, if not a gun then maybe a taser or some other weapon, a stark reminder of just what this place really was.

The other faculty were sitting off to the side, ignoring most of patients, but they were seated closest to the doors, doors that were firmly locked to anyone without a keycard. Yuri saw the patterns to the doors as she moved through the building. Patient rooms were locked with keycards at night, though unlocked during the day, allowing people the go back to their rooms if needed, and the living quarters connected to another hallway via an always unlocked door, which allowed people to find different classes and programs as needed. The rest of the building, however, was locked tight. The cafeteria doors led close to the front entrance, though it was guarded by three locked doors in a row and monitored constantly by security. The back rooms Yuri had been led through last night were connected to the living quarters, but were also locked away. As such, patients were herded into one specific part of the entire building, and locked up after curfew.  _ A gilded prison.  _

Yuri was staring blankly out the window, stirring her nearly empty bowl of oatmeal, when someone slid into the chair across from her. She did not need to look to know who it was. The newcomer didn’t have any food, only a steaming mug of fresh coffee.

“Good morning,” Monika said, far too chipper for how early it was.

There wasn’t any reason to lie in response, so Yuri didn’t say anything back. Monika sipped her coffee and grimaced at the heat, then sipped it again. Above the window, a clock ticked the time by, showing fifteen minutes remaining for breakfast.  _ Why did Monika get here so late? _

“Storm last night was brutal,” Monika said, making idle chatter. “Surprised the garden’s still intact.” When Yuri didn’t say anything, she continued, “Gardening is one of the activities you can do, if you’re interested.”

“Really?” Yuri finally said. Gardening was easy. She’d spent plenty of bright spring days with her mother in the yard, sifting through the dirt and planting new seeds. It had been straining work, but it was always quiet, leaving little time for chatter. It seemed like the perfect remedy for annoying people. 

“You’d have to talk to the doctor about it, but yeah. I do it every so often. No one really has much interest, to be honest,” Monika replied.

_ Perhaps not, then.  _ Being stranded in the garden with a pestering Monika wasn’t what Yuri would call a good time. 

“Is everything ok?” Monika asked, head tilted and genuine concern in her eyes. Pointless concern, really. Yuri only needed to leave this place, to return to her real home and enjoy the company of former friends in the dark of her room, and she’d be just fine. Until then, she desired nothing more than to set this entire building on fire. 

“Fine,” Yuri replied, a bit offhanded. Monika, it seemed, didn’t take the hint. 

“We have group after this,” Monika said. “If you want, you can talk about whatever’s on your mind there.”

“ _ We?”  _ Yuri sighed. “Does everyone follow the same schedule?”

“Roommates tend to have similar schedules,” Monika replied. “And as your roommate, I’m supposed to look out for you, y’know? So, really, if you want to talk, I’ll be here.”

Yuri rapped her fingers on the wooden table and looked to the clock. They’d only burned five minutes. “I’m fine, Monika,” she said, her voice a whip. She needed to get this across. “The best thing you can do is just leave me be.”

Monika casually rolled her eyes, grinning like it was a joke. “I’m not gonna let you off that easy,” she said. 

Yuri scrunched her brow. Everyone, ever since the dark days in the hospital, had kept trying to butt into her business, always asking questions and ignoring her when she insisted that she just wanted to be alone. Monika’s reaction was so typical, so  _ annoying,  _ just like all the nurses that had spied on her through her days and the doctors that she’d been forced to speak with for long grueling sessions.  _ Why doesn’t anyone get it?  _

But what could Yuri say to them? She could’ve easily let her anger show. She could’ve screamed and yelled, demanded everyone leave her alone, but that would only serve to worsen things. 

“I don’t-” Yuri sighed, then looked down at the table’s dirty plastic surface. “I j-just want to be able to think for a while, that’s all.”

“If you want,” Monika said. “But you  _ have  _ to talk to someone eventually. They’ll keep you here ‘til you do.” Mercifully, she climbed out of her seat and took her food with her as she sauntered off, finding another table with people she cheerfully greeted. 

Yuri went back to staring out at the garden for the remainder of the lunch hour, yearning for those older days when she was young, when gardening with mom seemed to be the best thing in life. That was even before the cuts in her skin. It was easier, as a child, to communicate with others. She’d not had friends even at that time, but at least she never panicked and jumped whenever someone called her named, or fretted and stuttered as she awkwardly kept a conversation going. 

Once the lunch hour had ended, the patients threw out their food and gathered as the faculty began calling names and leading people into the halls. Monika fell in step beside Yuri, though she at least didn’t say anything. They were lead to a wide room on a second story, up stairs Yuri didn’t know existed. 

The room was mostly plexiglass, allowing people to look in from the outside. Hard plastic chairs were scattered around, some already taken by a few patients. Yuri dragged one of the chairs away, toward the isolated back of the room, putting distance between her and the others, and wistfully continued gazing out the window, toward that cloudless sky filled with the pale light of the morning sun. Elsewhere in the room, a man’s deep voice attempted to give a motivational speech about how depression was only a temporary thing, something anyone could recover from. 

One by one, they went through the room, picking out people to discuss their current state and their goals for the day. Some people gave simple, straight answers without fluff, while others practically bawled out their life stories. At the head of it all was the familiar chipper Monika, who encouraged people when they talked, or asked a few light questions, taking the therapist’s job from him. 

She had a cycle, really. Someone would finish talking, so she’d look through the crowd and pick out someone, then slide her chair over and sit beside them. She intently listened to stories as though they were the most important thing she’d ever heard, then give subtle advice or encouragement, and then repeat the cycle. Whenever someone passed, which only two people had done so far, she accepted it and moved on. 

At least until she found Yuri.

Yuri’s eyes went back to the room as she heard Monika sliding her chair over and taking a seat beside her. Everyone was staring now. Yuri looked to the door. It wasn’t locked, not like the others. All she had to do was run through it and back out into the hall. Unfortunately, the other doors were all locked, and the staff would’ve dragged her, kicking and screaming if she wanted, back to the room. 

“So, how about you?” Monika asked, a hand on her chin and thoughtful eyes staring at Yuri. There was something different about this gaze, though. It wasn’t fake like the look she’d give the other patients, it was genuine, like she actually wanted to hear what Yuri’s problems were. Yuri didn't know whether to feel flattered or even more annoyed at how much effort went into faking that level of interest. 

“I’ll pass for today,” Yuri said, still looking firmly at the door, shrinking away and trying to ignore the collective stare of the room. 

Monika whined. “It’s your first day,” she said. “C’mon, at least share  _ something.  _ Why’d they throw you in here with the rest of us?”

“I said, pass,” Yuri insisted, more forcefully. 

Monika kept pressing. “No one judges here,” she cooed in a soft voice. “Really. Just talk, say whatever’s on your mind.”

Yuri grit her teeth and held back the instinct to spit out some profanities that were inching toward the front of her mind. “I just want to be left alone,” she said, the same as before, trying to keep the rage from her voice. 

“That’s alright,” the therapist spoke up, saving her from Monika’s next insistence. “You only need to talk when you’re ready.”

Monika didn’t leave, however. The therapist took his own duties back, moving onto the next depressing story, while Monika leaned close enough to Yuri that she could feel her breath. The sensation sent an odd chill down Yuri’s spine, and she almost scooted away. 

“I’ll give you your space,” Monika rather ironically said. “But the doctors want you to participate. If you want out, maybe you should just start talking? Even if it’s just to me. I can…” She cut herself off, and abruptly tore her gaze from Yuri. “Talk to the doctors, or a therapist, or someone. Otherwise you’ll be like me, stuck here for more than a week.”

“You didn’t say anything,” Yuri observed. “You let other people talk. So, why are  _ you  _ in here?”

Monika hesitated. She still wasn’t looking at Yuri, and for a moment Yuri wondered if Monika had heard her. Then, Monika sighed and smiled as though nothing was wrong. “Depression,” she said. “I’ve been dealing with it for a while, but it just hit full force recently. I did some things, and now I’m here.”

“That’s vague,” Yuri said. 

“Sorry.” Monika looked back to Yuri, any cracks in her expression having been filled and forgotten. “It’s better you don’t know the details.”

It was hypocritical. She kept pestering Yuri, begging for details, but refused to share her own issues. Yuri had even less desire to talk now, assuming she had a shred before. Regardless, the facts remained - she didn’t belong here. Everyone else might’ve lacked their outlets, but Yuri didn’t. 

Monika wouldn’t understand. All Yuri wanted to do was follow her schedule each day, lie to the doctors about feeling better, and finally escape this rotten place. 

“And it’s better you don’t know why I’m here,” Yuri said, turning back to the window. Monika’s light breathing was still close on Yuri’s ear, and still kept sending small shudders down her back. An odd, unfamiliar craving for it was rising in Yuri’s stomach, but she pulled her chair away, hugging the wall. 

Monika didn’t say anything else. She didn’t move either. They stayed seated like that for the rest of the session, silent while Yuri brooded. Once everyone else had either given their sob stories or not, the patients packed in through the door and back out into the hall, to be lead to other places for the remainder of the day.

Most of Yuri’s remaining schedule was just as mind-numbing as her morning. She spent time with a psychiatrist one-on-one, and she simply sat and said what he wanted to hear; he asked her how she was feeling, she insisted she was doing better already, she talked about how her roommate was helping her, about how group was nice, on and on with other lies that could help get her out. She had no intention of staying for an entire week. 

Lunch came in the middle of the afternoon, when the clouds were gathering again and a thin mist shrouded the world outside. Visiting hour. Loved ones came to sit with the other patients, asking pointed questions about how everyone was doing, while plastic tasting food was served. Yuri sipped lightly on water as her parents came through the door and into the cafeteria.

They all three hugged. Her dad gave her a light jacket she’d asked for, alongside some books she’d been forced to part with the previous day, which gave her some reprieve from the bore of the facility. Smalltalk was had. Both of them were dodging the subject, though. They asked her how her day went, but they didn’t ask about how she felt or how she liked the place. 

It was time to remind them.

“When can I get out?” she interjected during a short silence. Her parents gave each other a strange look, then her mother turned to the window, looking out onto the garden she’d called pretty just a minute before. Her dad, on the other hand, provided the answer.

“Whenever the doctors release you,” he said. Yuri had expected it, but she needed to open an avenue for what she wanted to say.

“I don’t know how long that’ll be,” Yuri said. “I shouldn’t be here. I want out.”

Her dad blinked, then sighed. He seemed older. His hair had never been this grey before, and his eyes were as bloodshot as Yuri’s. “Yuri, please-”

“ _ I shouldn’t be here, _ ” she insisted, loud enough to attract attention from the others. She shrunk closer to the wall. “I-I mean, I have no problems! I was fine before all of this, right? Why couldn’t you just let me keep doing my r-routine?”

“Your routine?” Her dad reached a hand over and rested it on Yuri’s, but she snapped hers away. “What you were doing, that wasn't a healthy routine,” he said in the patronizing tone of a father lecturing his child. 

“I did it responsibly! I always cleaned up, I never went too deep. It was  _ working.  _ I was  _ fine. _ ” Her eyes stung with tears she didn’t let fall. “No one can help me here.”

“They will if you talk to them,” her mom spoke up. “Honey, please, you need to speak with the doctors. Cutting isn’t a healthy outlet for whatever you were feeling.”

“I wasn’t-!” Everyone was looking at Yuri now. Her ears registered a dreadful silence in the cafeteria. Hot tears fell, no matter how much she tried to blink them away. 

She didn’t know when she did it, but she’d run out of the cafeteria and into the unlocked hallway that connected to the living area. Her feet took her down its expanse, and suddenly she found a door leading into the garden, and no matter how ominous those clouds were, she burst through it and entered the warm summer air. She stuck to the back, where the cafeteria couldn’t see her, and she collapsed onto the hard ground, knees hugged to her chest as she fought the bitter sobbing. 

No one ever understood. Not this, and not anything else in Yuri’s life. She’d been in the shadows since she first entered school, all because no one ever gave her any real thought, ever considered her situation or wanted her opinion. If her parents or teachers demanded she do something, she had no chance for rebellion or dissent. Her peers would only laugh at every attempt she made to socialize, and the ones that didn’t just failed to get her as a person. Her input had never been welcome, had never even been asked for. At least she had control with her sharp friends. She decided how every interaction went, how every little moment was spent. 

She didn’t belong here. She didn’t belong  _ anywhere.  _

It could’ve been hours or minutes when the door opened and someone else stepped through. She’d expected a doctor or one of her parents, though her parents might not have been allowed in the halls. Instead of a white coat or hospital scrubs, her visitor was dressed in the patient slacks of the hospital and a sportsy jacket. Her tied up ginger hair bounced behind her as she looked around and spotted Yuri’s pathetic form, still sobbing away in that dark corner. 

_ She really doesn’t give up, does she?  _ Yuri cackled as Monika made her away over. No doubt it made her seem insane, sobbing and laughing at the same time like she was, but there was little use it trying to hold it all back. Monika sat beside her, a dumb grin on her face, until the sobbing took dominance again. 

They were silent for the first few moments. Yuri fought back the crying until her eyes were clear and the shaking had subsided. Then she noticed that Monika had brought her things out, the spare jacket and the books her parents had thoughtfully brought. 

“Better now?” Monika asked. 

“Why-” Yuri choked, then coughed a bit. “Why’d you come find me?”

“Don’t be mad, please,” Monika quickly said. “But like I said, we’re supposed to look out for each other, right?”

“Because we’re roommates?” Sharing a livingspace didn’t suddenly bond people like that, at least as far as Yuri knew. Then again, she didn’t know many social rules anymore. 

Monika shrugged. “It’s what my other roommate said. We have the doctors to watch us, but when they can’t, we watch each other.” 

“There’s nothing to watch for in me,” Yuri said. 

Monika laughed, a bitter sound against some distant thunder. “We’re all here for a reason,” she said, softly. “Clearly you have a reason too. If you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t force you, but you can’t keep denying that you belong here.”

“I-” Yuri cut herself off. It didn’t matter what she said. Every mention of not belonging was always undercut by someone else insisting there was some sort of reason.  _ And is there?  _ So many doctors had looked her over.  _ And how many people have an outlet like that?  _ She’d been deprived of her friends once, but when she got them back, it’d been a disaster. The gash in her stomach was still slightly scabbed, and burned a bit to the touch. Once she lied her way through the system and got home, what would she do once she got her friends back? Would she repeat the same cycle, or would things go back to normal?  _ Do I want to find out?  _

Maybe, somewhere deep inside of her, something  _ was  _ broken. Perhaps fixing that damaged little piece of her could bring her some sense of normalcy. Maybe then she could fit in. 

“We should get you back,” Monika said. “After lunch, we can go back to our rooms. Wanna just rest for a while?”

“Sounds nice,” Yuri replied with a sniffle. Monika helped Yuri to her feet, and guided her back into the hall and through the door to the living quarters, now unlocked. Some of the other patients had returned to their rooms as well, and were talking or silently reading on their beds. All of them stared at Yuri as she passed some open doors. 

It was raining now. Thick droplets pounded against the plexiglass, falling from a dark torrent of clouds above, while a harsh wind wildly shook the branches of trees. Thunder roared and shook the building. Yuri looked out at it from her bed, thankful she’d gotten inside when she did.  _ Would my breakdown have really left me out there in the storm? _

When she turned to Monika, her brow raised in suspicion. “I-is that a phone?”

Monika’s hand was holding a blocky little device with a shining screen. A pair of earbuds ran from the jack, and she had one in her ear. She smiled at Yuri. “You’d be shocked at how easy it is to smuggle things in,” she laughed. “It doesn’t have service, but my dad downloaded some songs to it.” 

It seemed off. A psychiatric hospital with so much security, and someone had managed to get a phone through. “What happens if they catch you with it?” Yuri asked.

“They won’t~!” Monika answered, voice laced with pride. She bounced off of her bed and slid into Yuri’s. The small space left them crowded together, too close for Yuri’s liking, but there was a burning feeling churning in her stomach at the contact, at how Monika’s breath tickled her cheek, or how Monika’s soft skin brushed against her side. She fiddled with the serviceless phone, then grabbed the other earbud and offered it to Yuri.

“What if a nurse walks in?” Yuri asked. They were in clear view of the door. Had someone opened it, they’d be clearly seen. 

“Claudie already knows I have it,” Monika replied. “She’s the one who brought it to me, under the condition it was stripped of service.”

“Claudie?”

“Our nurse?” Monika giggled. “You seriously didn’t know her name?”

Yuri hadn’t asked, nor seen a nametag. She shook her head. 

“It’s fine,” Monika insisted. Yuri eyed the door a bit nervously, but accepted the earbud anyway. She slid it into her ear and heard the sound of a soft, relaxing acoustic track, accompanied by the singing of a quiet voice. Her eyes drifted shut as she gave into the soft tune. Monika was still beside her, warmth radiating like a heater, and Yuri had to stop herself from sliding into an awkward embrace. 

Outside, thunder roared. The sharp winds and heavy rain pounded against the window. But Yuri was sheltered from it within the decorated walls of the hospital.


End file.
